


A Simple Red Hoodie

by tydolt99



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Developing Relationship, First Meetings, Guard!Miller, Lets see where this thing goes, M/M, Original Character(s), Slight Cannon divergence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-04 18:50:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6670633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tydolt99/pseuds/tydolt99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their first meeting is when Miller barges in on a mostly naked Bryan. Their second, Bryan ran away after a couple of seconds. During their final meeting among the stars, Miller was behind bars and Bryan was wearing a simple red hoodie.<br/>Basically, this is my headcannon for how Miller and Bryan met and fell in love while on the Ark, and there will also be some stuff from after the 100 are sent down, and when Bryan finally gets to the ground.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Room 342

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! So I rewrote this chapter because it was my first draft before, and now it is much, much better. I'll say this again in Chapter 2. I hope you like it more, and I will be putting more time into editing each chapter from here on out.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miller walks into Bryan's room at a rather unfortunate time.

Miller moved swiftly down one of the too-bright hallways of the Ark, dressed in a simple black guard’s suit. The synthetic material hugged his shoulders and waist a little too tightly, and the electric baton bounced uncomfortably against his leg with every step he took. But he got what he got—there wasn’t exactly a surplus of uniforms.

His boots made little booms every time they hit the cold metal floor, but the noise was easily swallowed by the ambient machine hum of the station. He came to a stop in front of a residential dorm, number 342. The guard fished a black keycard out of his pocket and waited for the command to use it.

The night before, a random guard patrolling Farm Station had noticed a loose grate. Upon inspecting it, he had found that it was large enough for a person to crawl through, and a little ways behind the grate, there was an unsanctioned drug farm hidden in the walls. Although it was small, it broke more than eight of the Ark’s laws. A person would be floated for breaking one.

The guard reported the illegal farm, but the Council decided not to immediately destroy it. Instead, they decided that a station-wide search of every residential quarter was in order. It would happen to every room at the same time, and there would be no warning given to the residents of Farm Station. They hoped that the surprise would help them root out any illegal networks in the system.

Although that all sounded great on paper, it wasn’t so easy for the actual guards. The enormity of the task meant that every guard went alone to their assigned room, without backup. It also meant that it was really fucking early and most people weren’t even up, but the Council timed the operation like that because they didn’t want anyone to notice there were guards lining up in front of everyone’s door.

A static-filled voice came through Miller’s earpiece from Mission HQ. “ _All units in position on level 1?”_ it inquired, and was met with a chorus of affirmatives from the guards on that level. The voice asked for level 2, then 3, 4, and 5, always met with ‘ _Affirmative’_. Every residential door in Farm Station had a guard in front of it, ready to burst in on whoever was inside.

The black keycard Miller had, his guard’s card, could be programmed to open any door on the Ark that Mission HQ wanted. Right now, it gave Miller permission to open any residential door in Farm Station. Neither he nor any of the other guards even needed to knock.

“ _All units are in position,”_ the voice from Mission HQ announced. “ _Begin operation in 3…2…1… commence operation”._ Miller tapped the solid black card to the keypad. It beeped, and the heavy metal door swung open with a hiss. Miller quickly dropped the card into his pocket and jumped through, hand on his baton. As soon as he was in the room, he froze, the words of announcement on his lips frozen by shock.

It was a nice enough dorm. It was a single room, moderately sized, obvious for one, maybe two people. In the far left corner was a nicely made bed, a nightstand next to it. Near the foot of the bed was a door leading to what was presumably a bathroom. On the opposite wall there was a TV, a couch a few feet in front of it, and a sizeable dresser a bit farther down the wall with a pair of shoes lined up neatly against the wall next to it. To his right there was a small table with a couple of chairs around it, a few papers and pens scattered on it. Besides a couple shelves nailed onto the walls supporting books and some knickknacks, there wasn’t much else in the room. But none of that was what had Miller frozen.

In the middle of the room, halfway between the bathroom door and the dresser was the most beautiful boy Miller had ever seen. And he had seen a lot of pretty boys. He had wet, brown hair that was plastered to his forehead over big brown eyes that stared at Miller in shock. A light scattering of freckles covered his very cute nose, and pink lips opened a bit, showing off a sliver of pure white teeth. His ears stuck out a little bit from his head, but in a cute way.

Also, he was naked except for a pair of tight red boxer briefs that didn’t leave too much to the imagination. Which was nice, in Miller’s opinion. He had broad shoulders that glistened with water, and Miller admired the long lines that ran down his lean chest and stomach. He was frozen in mid-step, one foot in front of the other. He also had a really nice ass, which Miller took a second to appreciate.

A pink flush made its way across the boy’s cheeks, and Miller decided that particular shade of pink was now his favorite color. The boy blinked, then his eyes widened almost comically. He lunged across the room to his bed, grabbing the nicely made covers in one hand and the pillow in his other.

“Get the hell out!” the boy shrieked at Miller, flinging the pillow at him with a surprising amount of accuracy. It hit Miller straight in the face, breaking him out of his stupor. When he refocused on the boy, he had the covers held up in front of him, and a hardcover book in his hand in position to be launched at Miller’s face. The guard scurried behind the still half-opened door, and a fraction of a second later, the book collided with the door loudly and eerily close to Miller’s head.

There was the quick patter of bare feet against metal, then the door was slammed shut, throwing Miller to his hands and knees in the hallway. Miller stood up and spun around, glaring at the door. Even if the boy was ridiculously cute, Miller still had to check the room.

He pulled the black card out of his pocket and tapped it against the keypad once more. The door swung open, and this time, he pushed it open, walking into the room with more determination than before—no more use in shock value. The boy was the dresser, one drawer open and a pair of pants in his hand. The covers he had used were discarded on the bed on the opposite side of the room.

His head swiveled over his shoulder, his eyes fixating on Miller. His blush went from pink to very, very red, and he let out an adorable little shocked noise. He dropped the pants back in the drawer and bent down, giving Miller a very nice view of his ass for just a second. He came up fast, spinning around and launching one of his shoes at Miller. Just like the book and the pillow, it sailed with uncanny accuracy right into his face.

He dropped to one knee with a cry of pain, his hands over his nose. It wasn’t bleeding or broken, thank goodness. The boy darted across the room, grabbing his covers and wrapping them around himself before stalking angrily over the Miller, the unthrown shoe raised menacingly in one hand.

“What he fuck do you not understand about ‘ _Get the fuck out’_?” he seethed, scowling at Miller. The guard glanced up between his fingers, and it occurred to him that it really was a shame the boy was wearing the covers. It also occurred to Miller that the boy was still beautiful and adorable even when he was angry.

“This-this is a station-wide search…” Miller stuttered, finding it uncharacteristically difficult to speak while looking into the boy’s raging brown eyes. “We’re looking for involvement in the unsanctioned and illegal growth of drugs…” he trailed off.

The hand holding the shoe dropped, and the boy looked away from Miller for a second, angrily muttering something about “those idiots” and “being careful” under his breath. Miller found he could breathe again for a second until those beautiful and stormy hazel eyes swiveled back to him and sucked the air out of his lungs.

The fury returned to the boy’s face, but it was ruined a little by the fact that a burning red still covered his cheeks. “I’m not involved in any _illegal growth_ ,” he hissed, sounding simultaneously offended, exasperated, and pissed. The shoe was raised threateningly again. “Now can you _get the fuck out of my room?”_ he asked, glaring down in a way that implied that Miller really should get out if he valued his physical safety. Which he did.

Miller nodded quickly and scurried out the door, still on his hands and knees. The metal door slammed behind him with an unnecessary amount of force, almost hitting him. He leaned against it and let out a long breath, still holding his throbbing nose. Miller brought his hand up to his ear, pressing the little button on the earpiece.

“Room 342 is all clear” He reported to Mission HQ. He hadn’t actually searched the room, but he wasn’t going to go back in there. Strangely enough, he trusted the boy, but Miller had a feeling that he knew something more than he was letting on. He wouldn’t push it, though.

“ _Roger, room 342 is clear,”_ the voice repeated, a little too loud in his ear. “ _Return to Mission HQ immediately for debriefing,”_ it commanded him.

“Roger that, returning to Mission HQ,” Miller confirmed. He pushed himself up and began the long walk back to the Go-Sci Station. The Ark’s hash lights shone down on him, and the living hum of the station swallowed the sound of his steps.

But all the while, Miller was smiling, because the only thing in his head was the adorable boy and his adorable blush, and how he was cute even when he was angry, even if he was more dangerous than an angry mob. On his way back, Miller decided that he would figure out that boy’s name, whatever it took.


	2. Chance Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They meet again!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! So here is chapter 2, I hope you like it! If you didn't see, I rewrote chapter 1, and it's much better and longer now so you should read it first if you haven't. As always, thanks for reading.

Miller was frustrated. He could not, for the life of him, find The Boy. Miller had taken to calling him that in his head because he didn’t know The Boy’s name, and Miller felt like he deserved a little more respect than being called just ‘the boy’.

Either way, it was like The Boy had disappeared. Miller had moved all his guard assignments over to Farm Station already. He ate lunch and dinner when Farm kids had lunch and dinner. He took to hanging around some of the most public places on Farm Station in hopes of seeing a flash of soft brown hair or the shine of light hazel eyes. He had even gone back to room 342, but when he had tentatively knocked on the door, nobody answered. Fear of getting hurt kept him from going back again. So even though he spent most of his time not in classes, sleeping, or eating in Farm Station, he just could not find The Boy. And it pissed him off.

His friends teased him at work and during school for brooding even more than usual. They kept trying to figure what had happened, but Miller refused to tell anyone anything about The Boy. They still came up with a bunch of theories to explain why he was paying even less attention in class than usual. One was that his secret boyfriend had dumped him. Another was that his love interest had been stolen by someone else. Yet another was that the drug farm in the wall was actually _Miller’s_ , and he was pissed it was finally shut down.

They were all wrong.

It had been a week since the Guard had searched Farm Station. The farm in the wall had been taken down shortly after the search, but no culprit had been found, rather unsurprisingly. Neither the Guard nor the Council could have actually expected someone to be that careless. In some ways, it was a show of power—a way for the Council to show that they still ran everything.

So Miller was by far not the only ticked off person. Many citizens of the Ark, especially the workers, were very angry with the Council. The Council could operate without any oversight, and its show of power and disregard for the privacy of the people of the Ark had sparked a long-standing feud back out of the depths of hell again.

Spearheaded by the former chancellor Diana, the people called, once again, for a perfect democratic system on the Ark through the disbandment of the Council and Chancellor systems. The Council, as always, refused their demands, citing that it would cause anarchy and the entire Ark would fall to chaos.

There were peaceful rallies, and workers threatened to strike. But that was as far as they ever went. If the workers of even one farm or factory went on strike, the consequences would be far greater for them than for any Council member. Striking was also a crime, and like all crimes on the Ark, it was punishable by death.

So there was tenuous peace between the workers and the Council. The Council would put on a show of power when there was an untraceable break in the law, and the workers would respond with rallies and threats. But nothing ever really changed. On the Ark, out in space, life was something that could be lost far too easily.

And Miller was still really grumpy. And it was only worse because he couldn’t figure out _why_ that violent, beautiful boy was so stuck in his mind. That violent and beautiful boy who Miller just could not find. But Miller could be patient, or at least he told himself that. And if he really had to, he would go back to room 342 again, physical safety be damned.

###

 Bryan was also rather irritated. Not because his quarters were searched early in the morning without warning like everyone else, though his guard had never actually managed to search his room. He was angry because of how horribly he had handled that situation. Instead of being mature and, say, asking for the guard’s name and room number, he had freaked out and thrown a shoe at him. The source of Bryan’s irritation was himself more than anything else.

Every time he thought of The Guard, as Bryan had started to call him, or anything remotely related to that very handsome man, Bryan just wanted to disappear forever—it was just too embarrassing for him to think about.

He took out his frustration on the soybeans, because that was really all he could take it out on. But he wasn’t too rough with them, of course, because that could end very badly. And when his friends asked him what was wrong it just made him think about The Guard again, which made everything even worse. Even after a week, the embarrassment and self-frustration had not abated at all. If he ever saw The Guard again, he was pretty sure he would just melt on the spot.

It happened eight days after the search. Bryan was walking down the hallway towards the Rations Hall when he looked up and The Guard was just _there_. It seemed like they had noticed each other at the same time. Just like the week before, they just stood there, frozen, staring at each other from across the hallway.

Someone bumped into The Guard, shocking him into motion. He shook his head, and when he looked back up at Bryan his face was filled with a somewhat terrifying determination. He began to walk with purpose towards Bryan. Bryan prayed to anything and everything that The Guard would just pass him by, that he would just keep walking down the hall and not interact with Bryan so he could hopefully forget it all ever happened. Whatever was out there wasn’t listening, though, because The Guard was coming straight for him.

All of a sudden Bryan was far too conscious of how he was wearing one of his rattier shirts, and how he hadn’t combed his hair that morning because he had woken up late and wanted to be on time to morning classes. He wondered, panicked, if he had bags under his eyes from stress and lack of sleep, or if he really looked presentable at all for this kind of confrontation at all.

The Guard, on the other hand, looked amazing. He wore a long-sleeved sweater that hugged the muscles in his arms, highlighting every movement he made as he waded through the river of people between them. He had the kind of hair that couldn’t be messed up, and his stubble looked both casual and purposeful at the same time. And his amazing dark eyes were fixed on Bryan’s.

Bryan tried to conjure all the mature things he had promised himself he would say in this situation, but all his carefully planned out speeches fled his mind under The Guard’s gaze.

The Guard stopped a few feet in front of Bryan, and just looked at him like he was waiting for Bryan to make the first move. He was probably waiting for Bryan to freak out and call him a pervert or punch him in the middle of the hallway. Instead, Bryan could feel a dark flush make its way across his face. The Guard was a few inches taller than Bryan, forcing him to look up a bit at him.

A tiny smile tugged at the corners of The Guard’s lips, and Bryan quickly looked down at a loose thread on the hem of his shirt. His fingers found it, and he began to worry it between them. His blush only intensified under The Guard’s gaze.

With a fond and quiet little chuckle of laughter, The Guard finally took mercy on Bryan and spoke.

“Hey,” he greeted Bryan, a hint of uncertainty mostly covered up by friendliness. Bryan didn’t say anything. “I, um… think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot,” he continued at Bryan’s silence. “So, um, sorry about the other day. When I… you know.” He didn’t have to finish the sentence. Still looking down towards the floor, Bryan felt his face flush even deeper. He didn’t even know he was capable of blushing that hard.

“I’m Miller, by the way.” The Guard said, holding out his hand. Bryan stared at it for a second like it was some foreign object, then tentatively reached out his own and took Miller’s. As soon as Bryan’s palm touched his, Miller’s fingers wrapped firmly around Bryan’s hand, giving it a firm shake. Miller’s hands were warm and dry, and Bryan almost didn’t want to let go.

“I-I-I’m Bryan,” the boy stuttered. “With a ‘y’”. He and Miller let go of each other’s hands. Bryan let his drop to his sides, painfully aware of how cold his right hand felt now. He still wouldn’t look up and meet Miller’s eyes.

“Nice to meet you,” the uncertainty was gone, replaced by pure friendliness. “Bryan with a ‘y’”. Bryan could hear the smile in Miller’s voice, and made the mistake of looking up at the boy. Seeing Miller smiling brilliantly at him, Bryan swore his heart jumped a little bit.

So he did the only thing he could think to do. He turned around and sprinted away from the other boy, pushing through the people who had widened around him and Miller like they were an island in a river. He kept on running until he was back in Farm Station, on the third floor, in his room with the door locked behind him.

He leaned against the door and slid down to the ground, dropping his head into his hands and letting out a little sob. It had been going so well and then he just chickened out. That was it. Bryan decided that he was never going to leave his room again.

###

Back in the hallway, the smile slid off Miller’s face, replaced by a look of pensive confusion as he stared at the spot Bryan had been just a second before, already filled with people moving to and from the Rations Hall. He decided it had gone well enough. He had a name and a room number. That was enough to warrant a visit, wasn’t it? Miller decided yes, and that he would steal Bryan something nice as a present. Maybe then he could have a proper conversation with that boy. Whistling, a plan formulating in his head, he walked out into the flow of bodies moving back and forth, and his and Bryan's little island disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go. Please comment and subscribe, when you say nice things it makes we want to write faster. Also, does anyone know how to make a scene break line thingie? I'm still new to posting on this site and have no idea how to, so I have just been using the ###. If you know, please just say in the comments. Thanks!


	3. Gifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miller goes to get his gift for Bryan, and Bryan talks to Harper about Miller

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry this took so long (A week). I've been busy with school and work, but this chapter is like as long as Ch.1 and Ch.2 combined. I hope you like it!

The metal door slid open with a hiss, revealing the Chess Hall to Miller. Adjacent to the Rations Hall, the Chess Hall doubled as the public recreation center on Go-Sci and as a public meeting hall for civilian organizations. Unlike on the other stations, the Chess Hall was considered no man’s land. While only Farm Station residents went to Farm’s recreation center, and only Factory Station residents went to Factory’s recreation center and so on and so forth, Go-Sci’s center was open to anyone.

Though sizeable, the Chess Hall had very little in it. Spread out across the floor were metal tables adorned with chess boards set up and ready to be played. A number of larger tables for meetings were pushed into one corner, metal chairs stacked neatly around them. But Miller wasn’t there to play chess. He was there to acquire his gift for Bryan.

The Chess Hall, in addition to being a rec center and a meetings hall, was the center of the Ark’s black market. The market existed outside of the Ark’s charter, and it controlled almost all of the economic activity on the ship. Someone could get just about anything on the market—it employed some of the greatest thieves and hackers on the Ark, and almost no one knew what existed in its hidden stockpiles. The Council was aware it, of course, but they never took any serious measures to shut it down. They knew that without it, much of the peace on their space station would fall apart.

Nygel sat at one of the chess tables in the center of the room, regarding Miller with a sly and slightly surprised look on her face. One of her arms arm rested on the table while she leaned her head against her other hand, radiating an aura of confidence and control. Nygel was the head of the black market, and she ran it more effectively than anyone else in living memory. She was the person people went to when they wanted anything, ranging from drugs to clothing to parts to hard-to-get items.

This position also made her one of the most powerful people on the Ark, and she could do just about anything without legal repercussions. Some people though she had connections on the Council. Others just thought she was that skilled.

 If someone didn’t owe her an item, they owed her a favor. If she somehow owed someone a favor, they could get just about anything for a very small price. She always claimed that her market worked off of trust and favors as much as actual items—so if someone tried to double cross or cheat her, something very bad would happen to them or someone they cared about. In that way, she was very much like a spider. It was far too easy to get close and get caught in her web.

Miller and Nygel regarded each other, both mentally sizing each other up. Miller had been to see her before, numerous times actually. In her network of spies, thieves, and hackers, Miller was the best she ever had. It was because of her that he took his position as guard just as much as because of his father.

Miller never worked for her full time, though. She came to him when she had a particularly difficult job, and he got a favor in return to be cashed in whenever he wanted. It was through her favors that he had gotten some of his rarest things: his speakers, a nicer TV, and even some pre-war movies.

Finally, Nygel broke into a smile that was almost genuine. “Nathan!” she exclaimed welcomingly. “Come in, come in!” She beckoned for him to come closer, her frizzy hair bouncing slightly with each movement. Miller didn’t drop his guard. Every move Nygel made was carefully calculated.

Miller entered the room, his face expressionless. Two large men sat up against opposite walls, their eyes on Miller. Bodyguards. Miller knew them both, and nodded to them in turn. They returned the silent greeting. Their job was to treat Miller like a possible threat to Nygel, even though he was a loose member of the market. Nygel’s bodyguards did not mess around.

Miller slid onto the cold metal chair, and waited for Nygel to speak—there were certain respects that Nygel always commanded. She wore an open knitted sweater with a shirt that matched nicely underneath, both almost inaccessibly rare to the general population. Neither of them had rips or holes, unlike the shirt Miller was wearing. Beautifully crafted earrings sparkled on the sides of her head, and a matching necklace hung down over her shirt. Again, very few people even owned accessories at all on the Ark. Nygel’s entire wardrobe was a subtle display of power.

Though a window above them, constellations spun slowly across their view. They could see a corner of the Earth through the glass, a green and blue mess of deadly radiation. It was almost ironic that the earth looked habitable from space. The reality was that planet would really kill any human the moment their feet touched the ground.

Nygel smiled widely at him again. To a normal person, it might look genuine. Miller, on the other hand, could easily see the predatory traces in her mannerism. That was one of the benefits of having worked with her before. Miller also knew that beneath that smile, she was calculating. Thinking about what he wanted, and what she wanted from him. How he was going to try to manipulate her, and how she was going to manipulate him. With Nygel, it was all a game of who could outsmart the other.

“It’s so good to see you again,” Nygel purred, clapping a hand on Miller’s arm. He kept his face impassive. “It’s been far too long.” He nodded. That was her first test. If he responded enthusiastically, Nygel would know he really needed something from her, and would know she could push the price up. If he responded in disinterestedly, she would know he was trying to make her think he didn’t want something badly when he really did. He had found a long time ago that the best strategy was to not show any of his cards.

The woman’s smile turned devious. She knew the game he was trying to play, and knew that she wouldn’t learn anything unless Miller slipped up. “Play a game with me while we talk?” she asked, sweeping her hand over the board, though it wasn’t really a question. White was on her side, and she wasn’t missing a single piece.

After 97 years, most of the sets were missing a number of pieces from theft or carelessness, and no one set was supposed to be full. A system of glued bolts replaced missing pieces. A single bolt was a pawn, two were rooks, three were horses, four were bishops, five were the queen, and six were the king. Miller’s side of the board was missing three pawns, a rook, a bishop, the king and the queen. Another subtle show of power.

Miller nodded again. She shot him another winning smile, then moved her pawn forward, looking at him expectantly. Nygel always played chess while she made deals, and she used it to test her clients. If the game was a good one, the deal often was the same. If the game was a bad one, the quality of the deal could be reflected in that. Miller had become very good at chess over the years.

They played silently for a few moments under the watchful eyes of the bodyguards. Miller took the first pawn, setting it on the boarder of the board. Nygel managed to take two of his pawns before he took her first horse.

“So what can I help you with?” Nygel asked Miller casually, moving her rook down the lane and taking a pawn.

“I’m looking for something quite… difficult to obtain.” He replied evenly, moving a pawn to force her rook to flee.

“Drugs, clothing, tech; I can get you anything you need, Nathan,” she took his pawn with her horse, removing the threat to her rook. “Just name it, and I’m sure we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

He moved his bishop, and she moved her queen in response. Miller looked up at met her eyes. “There is a very special harvest coming up soon,” he kept his eyes level as hers as shock crept into them. “I want a piece.”

Miller moved his king forward, and Nygel stared at him, not moving a piece. “You couldn’t possibly mean…” he nodded at her. She let out a sigh of disbelief. “You know that’s almost impossible, even for me.” She accented the statement by taking out the bishop Miller had moved forward earlier with her horse. The horse was by far her favorite piece because it could move in a more unpredictable manner than any other piece.

“’Almost impossible’,” Miller repeated. “Not ‘impossible’. I know you can do it, and you know I can get you anything you want.” He slid his bishop into a clear diagonal path to her king. “Check,” he declared.

“If this was anyone else, you know,” she said dryly, taking out Miller’s last bishop with the same horse that took out his first, “the answer would be ‘absolutely not’. But since it’s you, I might be able to arrange something.”

Miller barely managed to restrain a triumphant smile, keeping it to a small smirk. She saw it, but she choose not to say anything. Another benefit of being a longtime employee of hers. He waited patiently for her to name her price. Even with the favors she owed him, he expected it would steep. He moved one of his pieces to create the beginning of an opening for Nygel. This, she definitely took note of.

Nygel moved a piece into position, and Miller let her. “I want the schedules, rotations, and paths of all the guards on the Ark for the next month,” she stated. Miller looked up at her in surprise, but didn’t break the flow of the game. It was a steep price to match a steep request. “You can do that, can’t you Nathan?” It was an insult as much as an honest question.

“Of course I can,” he said coldly, leveling her with an icy glare. He really hated Nygel, and would never associate with her if not for her power. “I can just copy it off my dad’s computer when he’s out.”

“I knew I could count on you,” she said warmly, dispelling his hostility easily, though Miller knew it was a calculated move like everything else she did. They continued their little dance on the board till Nygel was fully into position. “Check mate,” she stated, a slight note of satisfaction in her voice. Neither of them checked, both knowing that Nygel would not have slipped up in the slightest.

Miller knocked his bolt king over and they shook hands over the table—their personal way of sealing a deal. She produced a small flash drive from somewhere in her sweater and passed it to him.

“Put it on this and get it to one of my guards,” she commanded, dropping the drive in his hand, a slightly pleased look on her face. Nygel would probably use the information to help smuggle some more important goods across the Ark, likely including what Miller wanted.

He stood and pocketed the drive. “I’ll have it to you by tomorrow,” he said, giving her one last nod before turning around and walking towards the door. He send a nod to the two guards on his way out which they both returned.

“It’s always a pleasure doing business with you,” Nygel called out at him. “Oh, and I’m taking two favors for this one.” She was always looking to get a little something out of each deal.

“Fine by me,” Miller called back over his shoulder. Really, it was a small miracle that she could get what he wanted her to at all, so he wouldn’t push it over a single favor. She owed him plenty.

The door slid open with a hiss, and he walked out casually like he hadn’t just arranged a deal that could get a number of people, including himself, floated. Only when the door shut behind him did he finally allow himself to break out into a wide grin. Things were going according to plan.

###

Bryan wasn’t taking notes. In fact, he wasn’t really paying any attention to Pike rattling on about edible berries or whatever he was talking about. It wasn’t like they would ever actually go down to the ground, and assuming they survived the radiation, Bryan was sure none of the pre-war berries would still be alive.

“Alright, what’s up with you?” Harper whispered harshly at Bryan when Pike’s back was turned to the class. He jumped a bit, startled out of his reverie. He turned and looked at Harper quizzically.

“Huh?” he whispered back. Harper let out a small dramatic sigh, pretending to be taking notes again when Pike turned to the class again.

When Pike turned away again, she leaned over repeated, “I said, ‘What’s wrong with you’? Usually you’re the good student whose notes I copy. Your notes are shittier than mine right now.” She fixed him with a glare that told him it would be dangerous to lie to her. “So tell me, what happened?” They had to halt their conversation again when Pike turned to them and started rambling about berries in the ecosystem.

“I’ll tell you after class,” Bryan whispered to her at their next opportunity.

“Fine,” she muttered a little petulantly, crossing her arms and sliding down in her seat.

 Bryan sighed and began to take notes properly, earning a satisfied smile from Harper who put down her pencil and stopped taking notes altogether. She would just steal them from him later.

Harper kept glancing up at the clock as Pike droned on about the dead planet they could see through the classroom’s small windows, her leg bouncing impatiently. Though he would never say it out loud, Bryan found it a little funny watching Harper being so impatient, and decided to tease her a bit more.

When the clock finally told them class was over, Harper all but dragged Bryan out of the classroom. Just to annoy her, he made sure to take extra time packing up, and when she pulled him out of the classroom, he dragged his feet, laughing at her growing frustration.

By the time they got to Bryan’s room, the boy was red was laughter, and Harper was trying her best not to join him. He punched in the code to his room, and she tugged him inside, intent on getting answers.

Harper walked across his room, sitting on Bryan’s immaculately made bed and motioning him to come over. As soon as he sat down next to her on the bed, all humor dropped of his friend’s face, replaced be seriousness.

“Alright. Spill,” she commanded, grabbing on of his pillows and hugging it to her chest. Bryan almost protested at the use of his pillows, but decided against it. “You haven’t been yourself lately. Is it Collin again? Because if he’s being a jerk again I swear to god I will throw him off this ship,” she threatened, her voice rising.

“No, no, no! It’s not Collin,” Bryan cried, waving his hands in what he hoped was a placating fashion. He grabbed the other pillow from behind Harper, hugging it to his chest like she did. He began to recount the story of his first interaction with Miller.

By the end of it, Harper was laughing so hard she could barely breathe. They were both very red, but for very different reasons. Harper opened her mouth to say something, then burst out laughing again, unable to speak while Bryan yelled at her to shut up.

Her laughter eventually died down. “That’s good though,” she managed to get out. “I thought it was something serious.” She sighed.

“It _is_ serious, though!” Bryan protested. “I totally embarrassed myself in front of a really hot guy! Twice!”

Harper froze. “Twice?” she questioned, looking up at Bryan with a serious look in her eyes. All traces of laughter were gone. A sly smile spread across her lips. “Do tell, Bryan. Do tell.”

Blushing profusely, Bryan described his second encounter with Miller. By the end of it, Harper was rolling around on his bed with laughter, kicking her legs and messing up the covers, much to Bryan’s annoyance. He just wanted to hide under them until Harper went away.

“You’re… you’re such a coward!” she wheezed out between gasping breaths, giving Bryan a weak punch on the arm. “If he’s so hot… then just ask him out!” She burst into another fit of giggles at the idea, while Bryan turned even redder.

“No!” Bryan cried, swatting at her playfully, still crimson red. “If I ever see him again I’m gonna die of embarrassment!” But part of him was glad Harper was laughing instead of freaking out like he was.

And then they were both laughing. Bryan didn’t really know why he was laughing, but there were tears in his eyes and he and Harper were both holding their stomachs. When it finally died down, they both lay tiredly on Bryan’s horribly messed up bed.

Bryan ventured a glance at the clock, letting out a little gasp of surprise at how much time had passed. “Shit Harper, you got work starting in five!” She looked up at the clock, eyes big with fear. Half a second later she was on her feet, fumbling around for her shoes.

“Shit, shit, shit,” she chanted, finding her shoes and trying to pull her them on. She gave Bryan an awkward one-armed hug then was dashing out the door, a “see you later” echoing over her shoulder. The door slid shut behind her with a hiss.

With a loud sigh, Bryan fell backwards onto his bed. He ground the heels of his palms into his eyes, letting out a moan of exhaustion. After all that, he simultaneously never wanted to see Miller again and really wanted to see him again. He sighed again because he knew that Miller was going to give him a lot of headaches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, thanks for reading everyone! I am trying to keep it balanced between Miller and Bryan, and I don't want either of them falling into tropes. Tell me how you think I'm doing, and constructive comments are always welcome. Please comment and kudos, it makes me feel really happy and want to write more.

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, there we go! If you liked it or think that I may have any talent at writing (hopefully), please leave a comment below. I have decided that I am going to go until the 100 are sent to the ground, and then keep going forward with these two. Thanks for reading!


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